


Enjoy Our Product

by Kurxo



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: AU, M/M, Might be reworked, Not Beta Read, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-08-22 21:54:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16606136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurxo/pseuds/Kurxo
Summary: Companionship is necessary for effective leadership when it comes to Cybertron. Starscream begs to differ. Shockwave provides Starscream an assistant AI to combat his stubbornness.





	1. Necessary Changes

CYBERTRON’S SWEETSPARK FOUND DEAD THIS MORNING: IS LORD STARSCREAM AT FAULT?  
Thumbing the worn corners of the datapad, Starscream’s optics kept scanning the headline repeatedly as if it will change after the words worn out. 3 cycles or so have passed since this article was printed. It took about a cycle to prove Starscream’s innocence and another cycle to declare the case cold. Starscream had nothing to do with the murder, in fact, he wasn’t present on Cybertron when it had occurred. And, it certainly didn’t play into his favor.

Long story short, he had an assistant who was loved by the citizens. The face of his majesty, someone who help persuaded the people whenever the people pushed to work against him. Starscream didn’t care much for them, however helpful they proved to be. It was no use on dwelling on it now whenever his primary focus is how to get the people to open their optics and remember they have always been working for him. 

He tossed the datapad aside on his cluttered desk, watching it slide dangerously close to the edge knocking some other desk items off on the floor. An audible groan before he had stood up to clean up the mess he made. It pained him having to work like this in such a mess. So disorderly. This wasn’t like him at all. The Seeker was someone at one time, damnit. Where did it all fall apart?

The door opened whenever he knelt to the floor and Kaon’s champion, Soundwave, entered in his normal matter-of-factly gait. “Lord Starscream. Did I come at a bad time?”

“No, what is it,” he stood up to meet him. Surprisingly, Soundwave was without his duo-idiot assistants. It drew some concern from the Seeker that this might be a serious situation. “Don’t tell me there’s already more problems.”

“No. I wish to discuss something with you,” Soundwave implored as he took a seat in one of the ornate chairs. Starscream followed the curtsy and sat in his own on the opposite side.

“At least let it be _good_ news for once.”

“..”

“I think it’s time for you to find another assistant.”

“…”

“You’re joking, right?” the Seeker couldn’t keep himself from smirking. He felt as if he was going to fall into another cruel plan. “You remember how long it took for me to get _that_ one. Do you really think I can get another one after what happened to the last?” Starscream folded his arms over his chassis,” what are you really up to?”

“Nothing. Your desk is the least amount of proof to show that you’re growing incompetent. Contracts and proposals are locking the queue. We need to get a move on.”

Starscream’s expression soured,” I know I had my assistant run through the work, but you clearly aren’t listening to yourself speak through that obsolete vocal filter of yours. Who would want to be my assistant after the last one was killed for associating with me? No one in the right mind, that’s who.”

Soundwave and Starscream stared long at each other. There was a moment of silence before the Seeker made a frustrated gesture, urging Soundwave to respond or say anything at all.

With a click, the hatch on Soundwave’s chest open as he pulled out a sleek device. He placed it in Starscream’s servos for inspection. The device in question was the length of a servo, palm to tip of longest digit. There was only one button on it with a small glass screen in the middle. No need to waste time with questions before he pressed the button and the device shot to life, sounding a musical tune of the first few notes of “Empyrean Suite” and a beam of light to display a hologram. 

**Welcome. Device setup…**

A small circle spun next to the text. 

“Soundwave… You gave me a HOLOGRAM?! How do you expect this to do anything for me?!” he yelled, irate that someone with three collective brain modules thought this was a good idea.

“Documentation and proposals are digital. Hab suite upgraded with accessible digital features. My suggestion is that it replaces basic AI interface-“ Starscream opened his mouth but Soundwave slammed his servo on the table to allow himself to finish,” -it is a hologram. Not autonomous bot. You can program it to work only _for you_.”

That shut Starscream up alright. The intel officer was right. No one would bother working for Starscream and Starscream wouldn’t bother working with any bot. Impossibly high standards and agitating perfectionism ran hot in his pipes, this would be the better alternative than training some spark clean out of the academy.

“Fine, you got me. I’ll take this… Present, or whatever you could call it, from you. It better not disappoint me. I know how awfully primitive these things can be,” Starscream watched the menu unfold as the system finally loaded. 

Truthfully, he didn’t really know. Deep in his memory, he could recall Shockwave asking for funding for a personal project of his. He supposes that Swindle found a profitable idea that played along Shockwave’s natural scientific talent. Something about AIs. Something about Vector Sigma. Starscream couldn’t bring himself to care what it was for as long as it abide by regulations and didn’t bring more complaints to his desk.

“Well? You have me graciously at your feet for this. Leave,” he shooed him off.

Soundwave left the Seeker to the darkness of the room. The only light being from the small display shining from the device. A large menu was open now that read much like a Medibay projector. Vital readings for spark pulse, audial response, vocalizer response. Some additional vitals according to the health of the device, constant damage control, etc. It was almost impressive how the device nearly mimicked a normal frame interface.

The loading circle that sat in the middle of the projection finally disappeared when it finished. The device went black to reboot then projected once more. This time the menu replaced itself with a small bot. Couldn’t be any taller than the height of Starscream’s hip joint. He was round, yellow. A spherical face with a chunky frame. His optics were bright blue, like an Autobot’s, large and round like his head. Tiny horns at the top and door wings on his back that were too clunky to flutter the elegant way that the Seeker’s did. On his face was a content smile.

“Are you staring at me? I know I’m impressive! I’m a newer model, built just for you. My name is Bumblebee,” it spoke with a warm, ecstatic tone.

Starscream rolled his optics. Joy. He had hope for some civil, quiet servant, yet Soundwave thought funny to hand him some overly excited grounder. Not even another jet to fill the wound his trine left him.

“What a stupid name. Who named you? Or do you name yourself?”

“That is the name they gave me. I think it’s cute,” unbothered.

“Great, so. What do I have to do? Plug you into some machine for you to assimilate your AI?” Starscream waved his hand through it with mild curiosity. Bumblebee’s image altered very little. Indeed, he was the best quality hologram.

“The better question is what do you need me to do first, Lord Starscream?” he beamed up at him while he turned around, examining the tattered datapad along with the written notes scattered underneath.

It was hard to tell what the hologram was really looking at. Could it think? Did it have autonomous thoughts? The Seeker pondered if it was judging the disarray on his desk. 

“If you’re _really_ worth the millions of shanix, I assume, Soundwave threw down on you, I need you to sort through older documents first. Categorize them by order of importance then sub-order by date. I know many of time have piled reminders on them from certain delegates due to negligence.”

“No problem,” the AI picked up the datapad. Though when his arm pulled back, a holographic copy of the datapad remained while the physical pad sat cold on the table. He clicked it on. The uncanny part was watching the real datapad turn on too. Starscream sat up in awe.

“How are you doing that?” he snatched the tablet, eyeing Bumblebee while he worked. He watched how emails were being replied to, docs being organized. The AI paid no attention while he hummed away in bliss.

Starscream snapped his digits at him,” hey, look at me.” Bumblebee blinked, snapping out of focus, then looked to Starscream worried. 

“Is something wrong? Did I do something wrong?” His apparition knelt on the table since he was standing up on it. 

“How are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Don’t feign ignorance,” he slapped the back of his servo on the pad, “this.”

“Do you need a walkthrough on my functionality? I was informed that I could skip that process since you would be educated on it ahead of time,” his horns drooped. He appeared worried that he was performing defectively.

Oh, that burned Starscream. No matter if the damned thing could think, he felt heat burn the back of his chassis looking like a fool to something that isn’t truly there. 

Throwing his weight back on the chair, Starscream pinched the bridge of his olfactory plates. “No, never mind. I guess I wasn’t supposed to ask questions.”

“But… You can ask me as many as you want. My performance is determined by your needs,” he sat back on his heels, passing his servo over Starscream’s wrist to pull his attention back to him.

“It isn’t utmost importance how you work to me as long as you get the job done. I’m a cycle behind on my work, so get to it. “

Bumblebee paused when he snapped at him. A blank look in optics that stared down in the hot red ones of his Lordship.

“Understood. I calculate I will be finished in 5 hours,” Bumblebee stood back up, locked back on the task at hand. A small window popped up behind him with a timer on it. Starscream didn't care to notice while he went to massage his helm. Wasn’t this supposed to ease his nerves?


	2. What Now?

“Lord Starscream.”

“Staarscream~” a faint buzz followed by a musical chime.

His Lordship onlined his optics, looking around his darkly lit office while his vision recalibrated. Stiffness in his joints, he fell into recharge. With a broad stretch of his wings, flicking the ends, he grabbed his chair on either side to stand up. 

“How was your rest?”

“--?! Oh, right,” Starscream forgot about the tiny gift left for him. He scanned the room for him yet found no light. “Where are you?”

“Sorry, I’m right here,” Bumblebee walked through the door of a small side room he had traveled into. The sensors couldn’t pick up his presence other than altering his apparition for a moment due to proton disturbance. 

“What were you doing?” the Seeker walked his servos over his desk. It was tidy now with his datapad laying neatly next to his crown. Guess it dropped whenever he fell asleep. Wait, how did-- 

“I was curious about this place. I know you are the ruler after all, but... When I was running through my machine learning prompts, I’ve only heard of offices being in enclosed areas. Stacks of them up to a mile long in tiny boxes. Or maybe a room with a tall shelf of trophies behind a desk. You have neither,” Bumblebee mused. In his excitement, he bounced between different edges of the room instead of only walking over.

“This used to be a strategy room back during war times. Since we’re no longer participat—Wait a klick.”

Bumblebee stopped mid motion. His large arms hugged over his chassis in anticipation.

“How did you clean my desk? You’re only a hologram?” Starscream approached him where he stood. The tiny car being on the ground for the first time, it was comedic how much smaller he truly was to the Seeker.

Bumblebee waved his servo with a giggle,” that’s a secret only for me. For now, at least. It’ll ruin the immersion of my existence if I told you.”

“Does it matter if I need the ~immersion~? I know you’re not real. I don’t need Crystal City grade lenses to see that,” he argued dismissively.

Horns drooped once again. Big, round optics looked visibly distressed at how insensitive the other was being. The little bee fished for his words. “It matters a little bit, okay? I’m… Not allowed to continue this topic. It goes against my programming,” he cut it off before the other found anything worse to say.

Starscream didn’t buy into it, but he wasn’t going to argue with nothing. This sounded like a job better suited by dismantling his physical components than arguing with limited responses. Buying the blueprint from Shockwave sounded easier than all-of-the-above.

“Fine, okay. I guess a more pressing question is: are you only limited to the office or what?”

Any sadness that was in Bumblebee washed away as he returned to his factory default bubbliness. Must be only a few lines of code for negative emotions.

“I can go wherever you want me to go! The device was built in mind for those who need continuous companionship. If the device is on you, I can always travel about a 3-mile radius around you. Some bots, namely researchers, prefer installing our software into their domestic systems. The option of having us operate directly to their database is highly optimal compared to the verbal alternative.”

“It’s apparent that I have no grand lab or towering mother computer for those sorts of functionalities,” he disengaged cornering him to move to his desk. The sleek device still laid there. This time the small center screen read ‘Bumblebee’ with a thin, yellow sparkbeat underlining it. Starscream threw it into one of his shoulder compartments for safe keeping. 

Bitter as it was admitting Soundwave was right, the idea of someone who can’t be in the way since they’re not tangible was _so_ appealing. 

“Are we going to visit more of the building, Lord Starscream?” Bumblebee reprojected next to him.

 _Lord Starscream_ Without disdain in the tone no matter how many times he said it. A smirk grew on his lips at how fast that was growing on him.

“You can do whatever you please. I need to read over those documents you’ve sorted. You… Did sort them, correct?” he tested him.

“Of course. That’s why I originally woke you up.”

“Right, right,” he flipped through to find something eye-catching. Most issues were meant to be sent off to more appropriate departments. They were itching for work after all. Post-war Cybertron remained saturated with veterans blindly searching for their footing back during Reformation. Starscream assumed his leadership position and went to work to establish assistant programs for these bots. Many of them continued to refuse his charity under claims he was ill-intentioned. Foolish he was to think bots would be desperate enough to comply.

Another annoyance stacked on top of another. The thin veil of pursuing war remained one fire spark away during the onset of Reformation. It took dictionaries of advanced vocabulary, many of which were lost in translation from one dialect to another, and backhanded threats to remove I/E chips from all Decepticons. It was nearly a lost cause without Soundwave’s “persuasion” tactics. Even through those efforts, tensions will always persist since the ideals from the Partisans will never desist. 

**The Front Line: Waves of Reports of Metroplex’s Increased Malfunctioning: Could This Be it for Iacon?**

“Don’t tell me he’s already needing another maintenance,” Starscream lamented. “The pain it was dealing with that Primus-forsaken degenerate.” Rubbing the parietal of his helm, he weighed his options.

The publisher wasn’t a mass media reporter. The Seeker figured the scientists grew anxious with the recent federal recess and took liberty of informing the public so that there would be a heightened urgency for someone to act. Typical. 

“Bumblebee, can you pull up a map of Metroplex’s inner workings? Unless that some sort of inaccessible knowledge to you,” he looked down at him.

“For future reference, I have clearance to anything that you do,” he notified him before pulling up a projection of Metroplex’s endoframe map.

“Take the statistics from all recent maintenance reports and build onto the map the damages.”

The apparition seamlessly recalled the reports he rummaged through this morning to piece together an overall damage report of the entire precinct. The map laid flat with 3 dimensional replicas of its topographic data. Horizontal indicators pointed to highs and lows on Metroplex’s frame, naming various quality reports and percentages per permission of the publisher.

“The conclusion is that there is no correlation between all damages. Reasons: dangerous bot inhabiting areas, exploiting, lack of repair, etc. Would you like me to file a comprehensive assessment?”

“No, there is something off about this.”

“But my data is never wrong.”

“Your data is conclusive, but it’s not intuitive. Look here,” Starscream took two digits to enlarge parts of the map for visual clarity, “It doesn’t matter that type of affliction of the area, there is always a consistent amount of energon syphoned from the remnants.”

“What do you think it could be?” Bumblebee stood on the edges of his feet to peek at the map hovering over him.

“Someone thinks they’re sly with their noted inconsistencies. Each sector of Iacon runs on a different research team that hardly convenes. This someone either knows this or is running off pure luck thinking they’re throwing the authorities off their tail.”

Bumblebee took the map down to his height to rework some of the data. With Starscream’s analysis, he performed a more thorough check to match any underlying themes in the data.

“This is probably the work of some gang, or starving people down into the slums. I’d hardly consider this a high priority,” as easy as it was to find it, Starscream was just as easy to dismiss it.

“If they were starving people, they wouldn’t have the resources to spread throughout the entire precinct in uniform fashion,” Bumblebee contested the idea.

“Correct, however that’s probably where the energon is going. What other use would a bot have for it other than to top themselves off? Perhaps creating a new drug or elixir, if not for self-sufficient regulation.”

Bumblebee couldn’t argue that. From his understanding, bots don’t use energon for any other than what’s mandatory. He kept the data to himself incase it would be needed again.

“We’ll crack down on the issue. First, we send more assistance towards the slums. Get them back into the workforce. If they prove to be better off, and the energon breech lowers, then that solves that problem. Otherwise, I’ll give it a second review,” Starscream scrolled for another article to bring forth to his immediate attention.

 **What’s that Sound? New Reports of** \--   
The chime of an incoming notification ran loud from the pad as it covered the screen. An intrusive ad. Didn’t he block those?

_Don’t miss it tonight! Sweet revenge returning from Velocitron. Blurr versus Rodimus on Iacon’s home speedway. Will Rodimus reclaim his lost title on the Turn Tables or will Blurr drive this speedster into retirement?! Doors open at 9. Get your tickets online or in person._

The ad shut off finally. Last thing he wanted to do was watch some low grade Autobots crash helms on some fu—

“Lord Starscream?”

“Yes, what is it?” he pulled back to himself.

“Can we go to that?” Bumblebee asked. A twinkle in his eye since he was so enamored with the ad.

“Are you kidding me? Pits, no. All it is- is some single functioning grounders ramming each other into guard rails for 5 hours while spouting lukewarm insults. It’s staged anyways,” he contemplated his “nails” as he spoke.

Bumblebee’s enthusiasm couldn’t be curved no matter what derogatory statements could be said about it. “Just for a little bit. I’m curious. We don’t have to go to another one ever again. I promise.”

“…”

“Tch, fine. I’ll play along with this ~immersion~ game of yours. I’ll stay for 2 hours at most. And DON’T bother asking me to stay any longer than that,” Starscream complied. His only excuse was that he rather sit and do nothing than go back to work in this fruitless job.

The apparition’s hologram beamed brighter with unparalleled delight,” !! Do I have to wear a special paint?! Or maybe I get to wear, like, a cape or something. Something to dress up in.”

“Slow down, I can hardly understand what you’re saying to me,” Starscream already started down the hallway. Bumblebee noticed the other was no longer in front and immediately scuttled along to catch up.

“I have many clothing programs. Albeit unnecessary, some bots have a fancy for them? I think?! I don’t know. I was thinking…”

Starscream, again, pinched the bridge of his olfactory plates feeling how long this night was going to be.


	3. What Leisure?

Racing certainly was not one of Starscream’s immediate interests. In fact, he couldn’t care less. He viewed it as cheap entertainment. Something expected to be cherished by the lowest common denominator. Yet, here he was, appeasing some non-autonomous apparition to it. That was the excuse at least. Scapegoating poor Bee in avoidance of admitting to himself that he would rather do anything than focus on the endless piles of royal chores. Chores that he had asked for.

“Wow… It’s so big AND there’s so many bots!” Bumblebee peeped over the banister the best he could. Balancing on the edge of his feet, he could almost see the start of the track where the famed duo would be lining up. 

“Yeah. Iacon has next to nothing enjoyable within their recreations. The best, and only, thing they have is this piss-poor excuse,” Starscream glossed over, bored.

“If it gives the people a break then it’s not a waste at all,” Bumblebee kept positive. Admirable.

“Ignoring mindless violence with a different flavor of mindless violence. I’d hardly consider that a convenience,” the Seeker was quick to dismiss.

It took an unnecessary amount of time to find a decent spot within the stands. To no surprise, Starscream’s repugnant reputation held strong among the population. It took so much time to move past the hurled insults, provocation, and sometimes the occasional attempted assault. With borrowed luck, the Leader was able to find a seat near the top with guards around the box edge. The tiny fence encircling it couldn’t hold out a sparkling, but it allowed enough room to give Starscream the advantage of seeing someone approach. Without further drawback, he seated himself. 

Bumblebee couldn’t be bothered with seating. There was some sort of feasible excitement in him that his form wavered enough while the edges split into it’s tri-colored layers. He stood in front of the Seeker, hugging against the fence, watching with his huge shiny optics. 

**Alright, runners. Countdown will begin in 7 clicks.**

Two sport vehicles pulled up to the line shortly after the announcement faded. Outrageously decorated, nearly gaudy. Well, Rodimus’ flames had always been gaudy to Starscream, everything else was additionally annoying. Blurr had kept modest in his wear. Something about certain kinds of paints weighing him down? The Seeker understood dust and gunk, never paint to slow someone down. Obviously, air was near frictionless. Seekers never had the displeasure of ground drag. 

The crowd lit up in chants for their favorite racer. There was no real winning side. Blurr had made himself a bot of interest with his side job at Maccadam’s. Then, Rodimus being prime and all. It could be said that some rooted for both sides, only wanting to see the action. The announcer’s voice struggled to win over the screams only being ambient in its echoes off into the night. To remedy this, there was holographic screens over the stadium that had crawling text for the transmissions. 

Large numbers covered the screen and the crowd coordinated their yells to sing the countdown in unison. 

“6… 5… 4… 3… 2… **1** ” 

With the roar of Rodimus’ exhaust pipes, he left Blurr in a cloud of dust.

This was when Bumblebee truly came to life. Due to immersion programming, he couldn’t alter his state to better suit his needs. Though, he managed a work around by pulling a hologram of the seating row, placing one next to the fence for him to stand on. His servos balled up tight while he pumped his chunky arms to the beat of the background music. 

“Yeah! Lord Starscream, who do you want to win?!” Bumblebee flipped around, bouncing on his heels. The energy within him almost making him a full bot if there wasn't a thin layer of transparency from the spot lights.

Starscream didn’t compete with his enthusiasm. A nonchalant wave of the hand as he took a sip from his cheap drink,” both are the same thick-helmed nuisances. Never shut up, act too good for their own good. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“They don’t seem like bad guys. Maybe you just need to give them a chance.”

A chance. Adorable. If only he knew.

“There’s no one way to detail the events that we—”

**_KA-BOOM_ **

Smoke curtained the arena, rolling over the watchers like a storm. Cheering faded into shrieking in one terrifying wave with bots scattering out of their seats out of instinct. The population busted into a frenzy on both air and ground. Triggering memories of the war, bots reacted violently in self defense, other went to gain as much distance as possible. Starscream pulled himself out of the chair slamming his servos on the fence to get a clear viewing of the area. His optics narrowed as his area scanners switched on. Unclear mappings, his scanners frantically bounced across his viewing space trying to find anything to focus in on. It was evident his position was far above the necessary range. More so, the added disadvantage of bots swarming like bugs everywhere.

In 3 folds, he shifted into his proud alt-form, flying over the heads of escaping bots into the pit of the smoke. Bumblebee’s apparition vanished with the advantage that he could assist the scanners with his added AI accuracy. 

“Report.”

“It looks like the base of the explosion was on the track, near the mechanics. Maybe it was machine failure?” Bumblebee proposed with what little data he could acquire.

“This is no failure, nor is it from any machine on this Primus-forsaken area,” he sounded sorrowful,” These are a type of Thermometric shells. The air is baking the bots trapped in the heat source. This is no regular Electron substitute.” Starscream recognized these types of artillery when he first invaded Praxus. Primitive and easy to acquire. In post-war Cybertron, that’s the height of one’s options.

Down on the floor, there was great absence of bots, thankfully. Starscream couldn’t have imagine trying to ensure the safety of them had there been too many accounted for. The heart of the impact was scorching, softening the already delicate alloys on his face plus malleable adornments over his frame. Perks of his M.T.O build granted him resilience to war-type situations proving this situation hardly a hinderance. The Seeker waded tirelessly through the smoke and scrap to find anyone, servos cupping the hilts of his spark-sabers in anticipation. 

“Lord Starscream! Over there!” Bumblebee announced into his comm hurriedly. Verbally pushing him.

His scanners aligned with the vague shape of something laying on the ground. A pulse was detected that couldn’t be ignored. It was the remains of what looked to be flame accented chassis plates. Oh no. Starscream’s thrusters sputtered with each step trying to move him faster. He couldn’t be harmed. Not like this. He shouldn’t be.

“Rodimus!” Starscream pulled the plate off the burning track, looking around for the rest of him.

The little bee’s hologram formed into the smoke, running into the opaque plumes to assist in the search. Starscream turned an opposite direction to cover more ground. His scanners still focused on the vitals. It was a wonder why Rodimus wasn’t responding when his spark was racing. Without his chassis plate, it means he’s vulnerable in his bot form.

Steps sounded faint with the sparkbeat monitor steadying. Starscream felt relief wash over him to salvage whatever was left of the baby Prime. He made way to meet his steps.

“Rodimus. I’m right here,” he yelled. The steps fell into a fast pace, launching towards him.

“Why—YOU!!” the shadow of a bot flew out of the smog and slashed a borrowed sword at Starscream. Falling into reflex, he barely dodged the cut, but met it with his spark-saber to force it back.

Another blind swing towards him met with another guard of his sword. The wide sweep tossed the smog aside to revealed battered Blurr. Tones of soft pink energon leaking from his missing upper appendage over the rest of his dented body. Almost covered up the buffered painted removed from his lower frame.

“Why did you do it?! Haven’t you had enough?!” Blurr cried in fear, fluid leaking from his optics to display his override of emotions. The way he flung his frame pathetically to make a swing that mattered only dispersed more energon across the ground. Starscream did what he could to meet his advances, backing him into a corner where he could talk him down.

“This wasn’t me. You know—This isn’t my style,” he threw his sword to the side, effectively disarming him. Blurr was unable to be contained that he threw himself towards Starscream, aiming a punch somewhere, anywhere on him. 

“Who else, but you… You are the only enemy who would go the lengths,” Blurr coughed unable to keep himself afloat. 

The Seeker caught him underhanded, taking the punch to his hinge joint. It wasn’t much to grapple someone fading already. “You’re not listening to yourself,” he argued with him only to keep him conscious. 

“No, it WAS you. You… can’t…”

“…”

“Bumblebee, were you able to find Rodimus?”

Bumblebee’s voice crackled the comm, interference gained by distance,” yes—I—over here—” A location ping popped on his screening map. With that, he pulled himself over hauling Blurr against his chassis. He cradled him in a way to prevent the most leakage.

“Where are you taking me? I’m going… Not going down to some…” a fight to stay online. He ignored him in favor of looking for Bumblebee’s soft light against the plumes. 

The public-spirited display of Bumblebee’s heroism shown through whenever he pitifully repaired Rodimus’ body. His servos slipping through the leaking metal. Rodimus there offlined in his own energon leak. Desperation screamed in Bee's actions while he hurriedly tried to grasp anything to put Rodimus back together. His growing frustration disorienting his form.

“Oh, fuck,” Starscream scanned over his whole frame. His vitals read online. His offline state was reserving whatever it could maintain before frame shutdown. Chassis spliced clean open, front plating torn clean off. Sections of his frame peeled off the alloy-flesh leaving an indescribable mess of his appearance. There wasn’t much time for him. Spelling out the worst for the King. 

Two bots that had to be carried of similar size to him. There wasn’t a right way to carry one over the other without some sort of sacrifice to either one. Rodimus is markedly more important to both society and Starscream. Blurr, however, was ambassador from Velocitron leaving the scale to hardly tip in any one favor. 

“Bumblebee page Pharma and Ratchet right now. Before they leave to find us,” he spat commands before switching to his jet form again, piling the two bodies on top. Their extra limbs splayed over the edges of his wings. Heavier extremities hanging off the front to host weight. There was no way he could make it by foot, certainly no way he can make it full speed. His hope relied on his constant speed and arrangement of their limbs will somehow balance out before they leak out entirely.

The sweet car sat on top of Starscream’s dorsal plates “holding” the two bodies down with his servos. It didn’t look like much, but he was able to charge an insignificant amount of magnetism into them, sticking them enough to Starscream’s metal.

☆☆☆

Fumbling onto the landing pad, re-catching the two bodies into his upper appendages, the Seeker rushed them into Ratchet and Pharma’s waiting servos.

“Oh Primus… What the fuck happened?!” Ratchet strapped Blurr down onto a cot, Pharma following suit with Rodimus.

“Let’s ask later, shall we,” he touched his digit to his helm, activating his comm,” First Aid, ready the OR with stasis machines…” His voice faded as the two of them ran the tables inside.

Bitter relief once again returned to Starscream’s spark, weighing him down until his lower joints gave out. He fell folding his lower appendages underneath him. He knew his motives are decidedly out of character for him. Given the situation, he would have done what he does best and commanded bots to do this work for him. That is, if Optimus Prime had not suspended consequences over his head on the protection of baby Prime. Oh it was falling all apart and there's nothing he can do to stop the passage of happenings.

It anything, it looked good for PR. If that was even considered a factor. He didn’t need additional trouble over suspicious actions that anyone can slap his name on. 

“Are we going to stay until they’re finished?” Bumblebee appeared before him, looking down at him with those soft, worried optics of his. 

“No. They’ll comm us when they’re done. I need to investigate the situation before it grows out of hand by the media,” he stood from the ground. “I’ll give it a cycle, maybe less, before this covers all news stations in all 13 districts. I need a public statement before my absence is mistaken for association.”

“How… spark-less,” Bee looked over to the side. 

“It’s what I have to do. Shouldn’t you know that.”

“No, not you. Just—How it all works. It’s impersonal: capitalistic. What about Blurr and Rodimus?”

“I don’t know yet. There's nothing to be done until they survive the surgery. If they do," he crinkled the metal of his olfactory bridge," I need this to absolutely be far away from Prime’s audials until I have this under control. Great, another repercussion I didn’t consider,” he groaned.

Without anything else to say, Bumblebee waved his servo over Starscream’s own. One of the few calming gestures they had bothered to program him with. Starscream disregarded the kindness, touching below his own servo to open the comm line.

”Soundwave, meet me in my office. We need to discuss this as soon as possible.”

“Affirmative,” his voice barely reached over curious static.


	4. New Developments

Hunched over his desk, Starscream rubbed the edges of his helm. There was no one way to approach this with the most necessary hospitality. Truly, what was there to do for it? His plating nearly escaped the blame for his previous assistant’s death, now there’s no way that the citizens will overlook this. It was almost painful how they were not yet jaded to the hatred they held for him. 

“There is no need to beat yourself up about it. Bots can see the sincerity in actions and words. There must be someone out there who would find it too easy to blame you,” Bumblebee tried his hand at comforting him. Not like there was anyone else to contest over it.

“It doesn’t matter what there is to be said about it. It’s convenient to blame me for this. I appeared at an event I’m notorious for avoiding. The target was a Prime. I was spotted down on ground zero hunting for Rodimus. There were hardly any sane witnesses to see me leave with the racers in my care,” the Seeker fell back against the “throne” at a loss of what to do next. 

“It does seem suited to you… Don’t you think someone is trying to set you up?” 

“Oh please, for what. My servos are clean of any crime. I mean. I wouldn’t doubt someone out there still has something to say, but this Is awfully brutish for a mere Autobot to execute. A Decepticon, maybe. That leaves the question of who.”

Soft hiss of the door interrupted Bumblebee from responding. Soundwave had finally arrived carrying the strong smell of melted metal mixed with scorched fuel.

“I apologize for the delay. The sight nearly rid itself of any valuable residue,” he took his seat in his usual chair.

“Okay, then what exactly did you find?” Starscream clicked his denta, growing weary that this might have been a fruitless attempt.

The intelligence officer pulled out his own datapad, cracked from overuse with thicker glass, and passed it on the table over to his optics,” my findings proved to be shallow… I was able to identify the bomb. It was a Thermometric type. Roughly 7 sects wide.”

“Was it, by chance, a seeking missile?” 

“By the way it aimed the track, I would say no. Pharma sent in the reports of Rodimus and Blurr’s injuries. The severity measured to be about 6th degree, most of them left inflicted by shrapnel than any sort of direct impact. I’m willing to conclude that it was timed or triggered by them.”

A tiny servo passed over the laying datapad, pulling a holographic copy out for the assistant to record. He was intent on collecting the information and sorting it throughout his personal database.

Starscream wasn’t set on any sort of trigger bomb. Timed, yes, but those tracks are routinely reviewed before a single citizen sets foot _near_ them. 

“Metroplex. Are you sure one of his tubes didn’t burst?” It seemed farfetched. It was still an option though.

“There’s nothing about Metroplex can could ignite an explosion like that,” Soundwave sounded certain.

“I’m not convinced until I see a report that proves one of us wrong."

“Don’t be stupid, Starscream. You’re baiting into all those clickbait pseudo-science articles. Metroplex is fully functional ever since Windblade was here,” his attitude started to show through again.

“Windblade worked on his brain. The core modules. She didn’t work on his endo-frame."

“If something were to be wrong with him, wouldn’t he have told her?” 

“No, that isn’t how it works. If you want the explicit details, you take it up with her. Until you can do that, I want in-depth reports about Metroplex. I also want reports of where you could ever acquire such artillery, even if you must scrounge the dried scrap of the Pious Pools,” he demanded, seething.

“What will you do then? Sit here and wait until someone rips that undeserved crown off your head?” Soundwave snapped back, shoving his chair far back with the force of his motions.

Starscream’s optics flared bright red. The nerve of this ungrateful little—

“I know you don’t appreciate the way things are ran now and if it really just _pains_ you to be here, then I would be more than joyed to throw you in the same dark hole I buried Megatron in. I heard he would love some company,” he bore his denta in a painful grit. Undeserved insult if only the other didn't test his nerves.

“You better hold your glossa since that might end up being you instead,” Soundwave turned on his feet, leaving him with no further comment.

The air thickened with tension unmatched by any positive vibe Bumblebee tried to emit with his weak ATField. Starscream could only groan, falling back into his seat. The times he had felt like him and Soundwave were finally on common terms, there was always some petty fight to remind him they stood in two different worlds. Why couldn’t he let go of the past?

A soft crunching noise broke the silence. Starscream held his helm up to see Bumblebee trying to move his datapad over to him. Without any sort of tangible appendages, his negligible magnetic field could hardly move it an inch. His holographic form could only manage push fake copies of the datapad out of the material outline. 

“Stop. I’ll get to it when I’m over this mood.”

Yearning optics kept on him like a sad puppy. The crisp edges of his outline softened with minor glitches within an update. There was determination in him that he wasn't going to be overlooked.

“Soundwave is wrong. He shouldn’t displace his anger on you,” some assurance, probably nothing that meant anything to the frustrated jet.

“Trust me, little Bee. He has more than enough reason to. But, I think he needs to get over it. Times change and so do we. If anything, he was the one that wanted it. He’s only sore about it because I’m the change. Nothing else,” he rolled is optics.

“Oh, I understand,” Bee didn’t. The politics kept coming in contradicting patterns.

_Pi-pi-pi-pi-pi_

A sweet tune sung from Bumblebee’s horns. Apparently, it’s his custom ringtone for when Starscream’s office comm rings. Bee jumped since it spooked him then he answered for Starscream.

Pharma’s handsome face covered the viewing screen. Now there’s a jet Starscream could always trust. Maybe. He knew there was a brief period he hosted an asinine hatred for Decepticons. Be it he left it so he can continue his medical work in Neo-Iacon or he truly left it behind him is beyond the Seeker’s comprehension.

“Pharma, it’s good to see you,” Starscream fluttered in his coy way.

Unfazed by his playfulness, he spoke without pause,” Rodimus and Blurr are in recovery. I sent the reports to Soundwave earlier this morning. I assume you’ve been debriefed.”

“Glossed over it, to be more correct. Is there anything that you found unorderly?” he nudged Bumblebee to ready his datapad for any new record.

“Nothing in particular. Rodimus was closest to the blast radius, Blurr farther behind. Anything else you’d have to interrogate them for.”

A long sigh. Does no one ever have anything he needed? “I understand. I will be there shortly.”

“Okay. First Aid will meet you in the lobby.” The comm screen cut off.

More work with more work on top of more work. The agony of working through all these bots. “Okay, Bumblebee. En route to the medibay, freeze all calls going to the office until we return.”

“Gotcha!”

☆☆☆

The medibay is a depressing place to be. Between the memories, the smell, the atmosphere. All of it immensely saddening. Energon drew heavy in the air demarcated with the spark monitor beeps. The same stark white paint, red accent contrast. Tiny medical modules flying around assisting the nurses. It was above Starscream how anyone could work in these places for millions of years and not succumb to madness.

“He’ll be down the hall. Third door on the right. He might still be offline so please be courteous,” First Aid led them past the nurse’s station.

Opening the door, Starscream held his vents, preparing for the worst. Rodimus yelling at him, blaming him like Blurr once did. Maybe he’ll find it in his spark to forgive him like he once did Megatron. There was no telling.

Instead, there was a tall white painted bot standing over the stasis berth. Appeared young with a thin frame. Black tire wheels on his shoulders indicating he was a grounder. Most noticeable was the large encrypted sword adorned on his dorsal plating then the large geometric shapes shaping his helm. The bot turned around, surprised to see them there.

“I certainly wasn’t expecting you of all people,” the look in his optics were warm even when his mouth didn’t smile. An angular face with red tear streaks trailing down his optics.

“Pardon the sudden intrusion. I came to see if Rodimus had made it out… unscathed,” no real appropriate word for it. Was there a way to tactfully say _Yeah, does it look like Rodimus never got hurt at all and I don’t have to somehow explain to Optimus Prime, that overbearing, overprotective, son of a bitch, that his surrogate, Primus-appointed son has bots after him on Cybertron. The place I promised aforementioned bastard that nothing would ever happen to him on my own watch. Which is now made apparent nothing is under my control and now he might try to rip my title away from me since he gets off on the powerplay he dangles over my helm._

The bot’s helm downturned towards Rodimus’ offlined frame. A servo held to his faceplates, caressing the perfectly repaired alloy of his cheeks. 

“Pharma and First Aid are doing immaculate work repairing his frame. It’ll take a bit longer for the rest of him, however. Right now, they’re waiting for his chassis plate to settle between soldering treatments before moving onto superficial repairs.”

Something… Something about that authoritative voice. The way this bot holds himself. Seems all too familiar… Starscream brushed it off. A respectable number of bots had come and go for the last 5 million years. It was only a matter of time before someone seemed vaguely familiar. Not this familiar? This strong aura was profound along the lines of notorious. 

“I see. When do you think he’ll be online and functional enough for some questioning,” hate to be crass, but in fairness, his life was possibly on the line.

“Pharma has yet to tell us. I’ll comm you whenever I find out,” he looked back at him.

“Perfect, thank you. Say- what was your name again,” Starscream held a servo out for him to shake.

The bot reached for it but it slipped through his servo the way that Bumblebee’s would. Frame came crashing to him, the Seeker flinched in preparation to catch him. In the swift passage through his frame, he fell close to Starscream’s helm, lips dangerously close to his audials.

“It’s Drift now and, Starscream, be sure to tell me who did this, will you?” he purred. What would have been his servo cradled the opposite side of Starscream's helm in dangerous poise. 

Starscream stood shaken by this development. This bot seemed real, nothing transparent like Bumblebee. Voice clear, stare held spark value, everything was clean. His optics kept wide in confusion when he spoke as if he knew him… He doesn’t know a “Drift”… Does he? 

His shocked stare found Bumblebee’s. Who only smiled at him unfazed by the interaction.


	5. Overture

“Did you know?” 

Nothing had been spoken between Starscream and his assistant since they had got back from Deltatran Medibay. In fact, Bumblebee hasn’t appeared before him either.

“Talk to me. I know you’re listening,” he pulled the sleek home device from his frame compartment and tossed it on his desk as incentive. 

Comedically as the device rolled, Bee’s hologram rolled out like a little ball tumbling over on the floor. He held his helm in confusion of what happened. 

“Sorry, my Lord, I was recharging,” he kept to the floor, hugging his chunky lower half to his chassis.

“Recharge? You don’t recharge. And even if you did, I didn’t plug this stupid thing in,” he knocked the small item again, forcing Bee’s hologram to shift in color correction 4 tones off color before returning to its normality.  
“Ah—right. Immersion. It’s part of my authentic Cybertronian realism, is all,” he waved his servos defensively to wave off any curious comment. Shockwave forwent programming a reliable deception patch for this poor bug leaving him to make a fool of himself to a Class A _Decept_ icon.

“Did he install you with only one excuse or are you running out of commands to throw at me?”

“No!! I’m being serious. I have routine recharge times. You are supposed to calibrate them to fit your schedule…”

Starscream eyed him, unwilling to take his cause at face-value. Clicking open the menu panel, he swiped through Bumblebee’s settings. Large setting menu with several different toggle bars, crowded descriptions, and tiny customization check boxes. In no way would this be considered user friendly. Maybe Shockwave held Starscream to such regard that he could figure this out. Which, he could, let’s not forget that, but—this was supposedly a mass-produced product. Surely someone with a mind like the great Decepticon scientist would know that people don’t purchase products they can’t utilize.

He digresses.

“What’s the point of having a myriad of options if the most you can do is harp and collect data,” his optics read down the toggle bars. Settings for frame color, size, constant emotion, recharge timers, comm customization, personality toggles. Boundless options for high maintenance bots. 

“I think you’re thinking too little of me,” he reappeared sitting on his desk, lower body still folded underneath him as he scrolled for him. “You have to use your imagination with me. I am at your disposal. You’re not giving me a chance.” Flipping through various frame types, fixtures, coloration, he attempted to persuade him once more with unseen distress. Some underlying urgency with making Starscream like anything about him.

Starscream didn’t care what fancy, complicated settings there were. His assistant wasn’t to “cure” his loneliness or tuck him into berth at night. His job was to keep Neo-Iacon efficient. “Okay, okay, I get it. You can do everything at a smoothing frame rate of 48f and have weighted AI p-value structures that grow to a limit of 500T. I have more pressing items that need addressing.”

The way the Seeker disregarded the apparition’s civility wounded him. “Okay, how may I help you today?” he moved off the desk, standing on his feet at the edge. Arms tucked behind his dorsal at attention.

“That ‘Drift’. Did you know he was an AI?” 

“Yes, I did.”

“What makes him different than you?”

“He has a different model frame. Custom made.”

Tapping his claws against the desk, his patience ran short,” you know what I mean.”

“I… I don’t.”

“Maybe you don’t since you lack the comparison. Perhaps the knowledge,” Starscream gesticulated, “he felt real. No transparency. It was like he had a spark. There was something apparent within him that distinguishes him from you.”

Tiny horn adornments drooped again from discouragement. The reminder dropped another brick on his ego.

“I don’t know what makes him different than me. Maybe Rodimus gave him upgrades to his device that allows for accurate realistic replication,” he remain professional even when his ATField drew cold.

“An easy answer that doesn’t explain how talked to me like that. Like I should have recognized him. AI has only been a recent development and you’re the only one…” he mumbled to himself trying to sort his thoughts. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“If there is… I wouldn’t know. I’m sorry,” he bowed his helm.

The Seeker ran his optics over his entire frame. Watching the movement of his small door wings to the twitch of his digits. It’s foolish to look for lying indicators on a perfect product. “Ah, who am I kidding. It would be too much to ask you. It wouldn’t mean good of you to let all of the secrets of Shockwave’s patent out on the table for someone to reverse engineer.”

“You are correct. I know he wouldn’t leave me in charge of sensitive information,” Bumblebee walked around the edge of the desk to meet up at his lonely side. One of the few times he was given the chance to view his Lordship intimately in close quarters. 

From a distance he appeared polished and primed. Routine maintenance on his metals to remove any sort of blemish. Strong, youthful face. Upon closer inspection, Bumblebee witnessed the aged look in the miniscule wrinkles around his optics. How there were dents from the ghost of careless hands around personal parts of his frame. Misshapen, misaligned extensions that grew weak over time from the war. The reality settled in Bee and now he came to realize just how far he was from understanding Starscream.

“It matters little to me what Rodimus delegates his companionship to. Even if it believes it has enough value to enact revenge. Right now, I need to start looking for possible leads into the situation. I trust Soundwave to be a reliable asset for this, but with his recent fits, I’d hardly want to consider him for anything,” Starscream drew a long vent.

“Instead of chasing leads, why don’t we stay in the office for a little bit… Take some time to think this through. We’re wasting time waiting on nothing,” Bee clasped his arm, trying to urge him away from the desk. His servo sliding through the armor casing with slight tug.

Lips pursed looking for something to contest with that statement. He couldn’t. At a loss for where to go, Starscream chose to retire to his hab suite. 

“Say, why don’t you take the time to talk to me?” Bee hopped along behind him.

“Talk to you about what?”

“Your concerns and worries. Free your conscious. Y’know. Filtering out your thoughts might clear a direction for you to follow.”

“There’s nothing to talk to you about that I haven’t already.”

“Don’t be so stubborn. I know something is stickin’ on your mind.”

They reached the door to his hab suite. Being that they are in the central building of Iacon, it was a lavish living space. Adorned with all kinds of golds and decoration. A suite only rumored in Kaon fantasy reads. For a Vosian, it was a standard setup.

“The only thing on my mind is about that AI Rodimus has in his possession and what does this terrorist want. Both of which I know aren’t logged into your database, so I’m better off scavenging the streets,” he sat himself on a chair positioned closed to his wall sized window, onlooking the beautiful city.

“You mentioned Windblade, yes? You could always ask her if Metroplex could do something like that given the abuse he’s going through right now.”

“I know the idea is well intentioned, but I rather not speak with her unless necessary.”

“Is she that awful?”

“Hm, no. The awful situation about her is that she is a delegate with added protections. Not to mention that curious nature of hers. She tends to stick around long, running orders her way. The real trouble then comes if something were to happen to her. Being an irreplaceable asset for Camius, I don’t want to endanger her in the uncertainty of the situation. Much less if it’s rouge bots. Like I said, I rather not.”

The assistant propped himself up on a chair projection next to Starscream. He touched his servo to his own cheek in thought.

“I feel like there’s a point where the red tape starts to become the enemy itself,” he vented in near defeat.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“What about tomorrow we visit those hot spots mentioned in the reports. Then when Soundwave comes back, we cross reference the data to check for similarities. If there’s nothing, we can just go find whatever vigilante group trying to start a coup d’état.” He spawned a map to display a diagram of their current plan.

“Sure, okay,” Starscream laid back forcing the chair to fold, crossing his arms over his chest to finally seek rest. “Wake me whenever the sun is up,” he started fading to recharge.

“Also, I was thinking... O-oh,” Bumblebee turned to see him already offline. It could wait. It bothered Bee that he failed to make it to his actual berth, but there was nothing to be done about it now. To follow his example, he was ready to turn himself into his device when his sensors started pinging to the soft Empyrean tune.


	6. Mandatory Updates

As fast as it took to realize what was happening, it was too late for Bumblebee to recall to his device. Panic ensued while he tried to abandon the process, but something overrode his personal protocols. It took so much not to be audibly terrified and risk waking Starscream in something he couldn’t explain. A loading circle appeared before him to notify that all his current applications were closing one-by-one until eventually his hologram disappeared and he vanished from the room.

**Welcome. Please wait…**

With desperate gasp, Bumblebee appeared online once more, tumbling out onto the floor in confusion. Many of his functions deliberately offline, it was impossible to calculate where he was at. His servo pathetically “felt” the floor for anything, but his sensors unfortunately offline too. Some cruel fate pinned against him either way he went. Launching as many protocols as he could, nothing went through to display any sort of message. Not even his custom exception handling threw any alerts.

With nothing, but his optics, he tried to scan the room. It was dimly lit with clutter all around. The spotlight above him was contrasting the lighting in the room, effectively blinding him from anything other than vague shapes.

“Whoever this is… You got me,” he laughed dryly to mask his anxiety with humor. 

“If you don’t mind… I would like to return to my duties. I’m a prototype after all with lacking functionality…” poor attempts at self-deprecating persuasion. Obviously he had some worth to him if they went out of their way to “borrow” him from Starscream’s desk.

“So, you feel fear. That’s interesting,” a dramatic voice. Its tone was flat whenever its words implied an underlying humor.

“Yes…?” Bee was unsure how to respond.

“You feel emotion and yet you fail the simplest of tasks,” Shockwave killed the spotlight above Bumblebee, granting the other the permission to glance upon the laboratory.

“Sh—Shockwave—” he stuttered. Facing his creator, he straightened his posture. Wings extended with his dorsal plates straight. “Please excuse me! I wasn’t expecting the sudden… Recall.” His horned lowered,” did he… send me back?”

“No, he did not. However, I was still able to see the dissatisfaction logged within your reports.”

“Ah, no, no. I didn’t mean he was dissatisfied… I only had some questions pertaining to what he, uh, wants? Maybe an AI companion isn’t what he needs currently,” Bumblebee hurried to dissuade the other from thinking he was a subpar product. “Perhaps I’m misreading the situation between us. He seems like he prefers a companion that is physically available…?”

“It says here within your report that he still found great use for you on multiple occasions. Between database reliability and graphic map enhancer. Your updated info graph shows increased use since your previous start up. When exactly are you feeling unused?” Shockwave looked to reasoning with him. In such a way, while he has experienced similar communication from Starscream, from Shockwave it felt different. A lack of something.

“It reads within Section A Clause iix that I’m programmed for spark replication. I’m supposed to be… “ he rubbed the back of his helm looking for the correct words to frame his interpretation. “I’m supposed to be unmistakably real. Sure, he knows that I’m not, but whenever we ran into Drift, he said there was a distinction between me and him. Something that I would be unable to understand. And, I don’t. I don’t know what makes us different. It was obvious to me what Drift was…” Bee grew frantic about his explanation. Worry plaguing his thoughts as he was concerned it spelled out the worst for him.

“‘Drift’?” Shockwave questioned. Turning from in front the stage, he went to his wall-panel computer. It spread from one side of the wall to the other, curving around the room in a large C-Shape. “There is no externalities between the production of you and him,” the singular optic lens lidded as if the data will suddenly change and there will added clarity. 

“I tried to tell him that maybe Rodimus added something that may make a difference. I don’t…” he lowered into a mumble. He didn’t know what he was talking about, much less to the face of the expert that made the two of them.

“I-I was thinking the difference is that… Drift is made from… A real spark,” he boldly proclaimed with edges of bitterness. “Cybertronians are keen on authenticate EMFields and, and—”

“That isn’t the case.” Shut down.

“Right, I apologize,” he endeavored to say no more. Instead he sat himself down on the stage waiting for scientist to finish his analysis of him. 

“I’ll spare some time to see whatever the issue could be. I wouldn’t expect that it’s anything relevant. You saw Drift in a white painted hospital under artificial light. He lucked out on contrast,” he explained himself. “I wouldn’t bother yourself with anything else. Perform your job well. If he’s insistent on ridding you, then we will see from there compulsory actions to avoid these issues.”

“Understood.” There was only lament in his voice. He wasn’t being scolded. There was no way he could be. Shockwave lacked the capacity to show anything other than rational response, but it certainly felt as if he was missing sufficient quotas. The importance placed on him by his Creator shows through his urgency. Or maybe there’s more to it than that. Lord Starscream, so far, proved himself a hard-to-reach consumer. He is also the leader of Cybertron. Bumblebee found his importance to be within his own marketability. If the leader finds needed use for him then anyone else could. The Prime also had one, so it only made sense.

Well, it _would_ make sense if Shockwave was the type to economical. 

There are things he has yet to fully comprehend between sociopolitical platforms. Some things he wishes was included in his base programming. Maybe there are some things better left unknown to him, such as regular Cybertronians are often better off in blissful ignorance. 

Taking his leave, he stood up and tried once to exit the room. He didn’t make it very far. Walking was a chore without his cognitive maps. His sight was dimmed, and his movements were lethargic. Er—not lethargic. There was no alloy-flesh to be inhibited, nor a powershell to experience exhaustion. There was a lagging when his framerate dropped sustainably. Caged within the lab, he waited for permission to take his leave. 

“Is there anything else that you need?” Bee asked tentatively. There was a chance he could further prevent his release by annoying him.

“Updates are in progress. You’ll be finished momentarily.”

“Okay.” Nothing else to be said, he opened his own menus seeing if he could catch up on work in the meantime. The updates keep much of his database offline, only allowing him to see Starscream’s vitals and current news. His lordship’s vitals were slow, assumingly still recharging. No other option than to turn to the news channel then. 

“Tonight, there has been record reports of power outages in key points of Iacon. The citizens are living in unmanageable positions ignored by Starscream and his council. Some are even saying that it’s only a matter of time before new leadership will be contested-“

“No, that’s wrong.” Flipped the channel.

“Updates on Metroplex: mining energon becoming sport? There have been anonymous sources stating that there’s been illegal fracking around the impoverished parts of Iacon, contributing to the rising amounts of power outages across the lower districts of the city—"

“Some citizens are concerned that it’s Megatron’s second comeback out of spite for Starscream’s leadership since there has been relevant slander tying into these events—” 

“Others are saying that Metroplex has long lived his utility. Should we push for reestablishment? Is relying on ancient Titans detrimental for Neo-Cybertron?”

All their voices, no matter the channel, spoke with the same formal tone.

“Watching these shows get depressing, doesn’t it?” Bee looked back into the darkness, hoping Shockwave would provide some companionship.

“Mere distractions. They rely on buzzwords to maintain pertinence in their business.”

“Yeah… It feels like after a while they’re all saying the exact same thing.”

“They are. A slight change of words shifts a whole argument in or against their favor.”

“Oh, kind of like how Starscream won the elections?”

“He certainly talked the competition out, alright,” Shockwave stated plainly, but Bee deciphered the sarcasm.

“…”

“I believe he’s an honest bot. I sense the good in him.”

“It doesn’t matter. His ‘goodness’ has to be more than implication if he wants the citizens to stop working against him.”

The assistant as nothing to say more to that. Shockwave was right. He could swear up and down, but it won’t matter if people didn’t know Starscream like he did.

“Your updates are finished. Is there anything else you’d like to report before I return you?” Shockwave shut down his main computers, or maybe Bee’s vision dimmed even more. 

“No, I’ll update my file whenever something else occurs. Uh, thank you,” he dipped his helm.

★★★

Bee loaded himself back up, resuming wherever he left off. Starscream should still be in recharge if it had only been a little bit, so he set off that way. The commute so much less since he didn’t have to follow the maze of the halls.

“Starscream, you should start getting up.,” Bumblebee sung in a tune whenever he entered the hab suite. “I have an idea of where to go next for your research~.”

Right now, he felt proud of himself. During the time he had watched the news, an idea came to him surrounding the situation. He was betting that it would help Starscream immensely, then he’ll finally be proud of him.

“Starscreaam,” he sung out again while he opened the high curtains from the window, allowing light to paint inside to the nothing there was.

His optics flared in another panic seeing as the berth was vacant from its occupant.

“Hey…” he started talking to ease his nerves while he pulled his vital panels. What used to be a simple layout was now so cluttered. It encased around him in a circle with all these new applications. Readings from all angles, he was starting to get dizzy looking through all of them. Frantically, he started swiping things away and closed, letting screens fly out over the room while he desperately tried to find Starscream’s vitals.

Tucked away in a small corner was his spark readings, along with other basic functions now. Relief he pulled it up and waited for it to load.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited…

The line remained flat.


End file.
